Thought Catalog-inspired writing
February 27, 2013 | 4:39 PM
And because I'm totally spiraling down into an abyss of no-return infatuation, I have no choice but to write. Because it keeps me sane, even when I'm sitting opposite him and wondering why in the world this amazing guy doesn't seem to want to bring this relationship further. Because I'm sitting here, reading and laughing at articles on Thought Catalog as though I'm 18 again, wondering if he's really just totally nonchalant, or just pretending to be. Both answers hurt, though, but maybe the latter would at least tell me he's as affected as I am.
If we didn't cross that invisible line, if we didn't break down that pretend wall we had constructed between us, I wouldn't be thinking all this, and writing all this. But you have shown me that there is something more, something better and greater, that makes any other 'accidental' touch or shared smile and inside joke seem so much more ignorant. But of course you should have done it, of course I wanted you to, but now it just means I have to admit that I want more.
I keep sneaking peeks. I never really noticed his hands before, but now they take centrestage; I look up and I remember how they felt, and then my gaze takes in his face, his hair, his chest, his arms. I'm so dead, I am acting like I'm 18 again.
I hang my head down in despair. He looks over at me and says, 'Come on Velda, chin up.'
I laugh inwardly at that, before shaking my head and saying, 'Oh, I'm only thinking.'
'Oh.'
If only you understood.
